


Clothing

by nitohkousuke



Series: How To Be A Person: Vanitas Edition [3]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 05:36:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18204230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitohkousuke/pseuds/nitohkousuke
Summary: Xion and Vanitas go to what is essentially an unnamed Hot Topic.





	Clothing

**Author's Note:**

> GUESS WHO BOUGHT THE BBS NOVEL.
> 
> I have no idea why I wrote this tho

The door practically swings open and smacks him in the face. Which is honestly his own fault for standing in front of her door for the past 15 minutes debating whether this was a good idea. Or if he should just go back to his room and sulk.

 

Not that he sulked. No. That's just what they said he did.

 

There just...wasn't anything else for him to do. Anywhere else for him to be. Whether they were at the Land of Departed or at Destiny islands. Or somewhere else. Vanitas felt like a blemish on their otherwise perfect group. The guardians of light had no need for a creature like him. No matter what they others kept telling him. He knew what he was. He knew where he belonged.

 

He wouldn't admit out loud he wanted otherwise. That there was a part of him that fought that voice in the back of his head which sounded too much like Xehanort. That told him he was useless. Couldn't even do what he was made to do. That tortured him when he closed his eyes. That told him the only way he'd be free from the pain was if he completed his task so he could die. Because that's all-

 

“-NITAS!” Xion put a hand on his shoulder. The touch was too delicate. Too filled with something he didn't even want to acknowledge. He hated when he was treated like glass. He was stronger than half the losers here. He didn't need pity.

 

What he needed was clothes that weren't hand-me-downs from Ventus, Roxas, Riku, or Sora. Their fashion sense was terrible. There was a part of him that knew it was more than that. He wanted something that was his. Nothing was his those. Not his heart. Not his face. Not his voice.

 

But his clothes. Those...He could have those right.

 

“....Sorry.” He mumbled, knowing that was what was expected. He didn't have a smart ass comment to try to cover what his head had been doing. Xion knew him better than that anyway. Ever since she'd told him off, she'd been closer than ever to him. Her and Ventus had been nudging him into more and more. And they'd both seen more of him than he ever wanted them too.

 

But at least they wouldn't tell the others. Though, those who had been in the organization knew. They knew. He could see their looks of pity, and it made him want to claw his skin off.

 

“...I want to by clothes so I don't have to wear what these losers think is stylish.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of what he thinks is Roxas's pants. “And you're the only person here with any sense of style. Even if you let those losers pick clothes out for you sometimes.” And she was the only one who'd understand the exact extent of what clothes meant. Roxas probably did too, but... Vanitas had issues looking at him for too long. He figured a lot of people felt the same way about him. To look so much like someone and yet not.

 

He missed his stupid fucking helmet. Why did they refuse to let him wear it again? Because hit was impolite? Because it antagonized people?

 

Because he wasn't allowed to hide forever. BAH.

 

“Ooh! Clothes shopping?” Xion gave him a smile. “I know a few stores that are definitely your style. There's some cute stuff I want there too...”

 

Xion's rambling on the way is more soothing than he'll ever tell anyone. She's one of the few people who's presence soothes him. Though maybe...lately, the others aren't terrible. When he doesn't feel like he's intruding.

 

Because he's wearing the face of someone so much better than he can ever hope to be. Because he's holding a heart of someone purer than garbage like him can hope to achieve. Because he masks all of these feelings of wanting to die and hating himself with a sense that he's better than everyone else. Because he has to be better. He has to have control of everything he can and that includes people's opinions of him. Because he's never-

 

“Hey.” Xion nudges him pointing to the store in the mall that they entered at some point. He's been losing so much time lately. Then again, he always has. Gaps in his memory filled with pain.

 

At least the Unversed are far more under control than before.

 

“...This place looks....” Vanitas stares at the store that has black walls and chains. It stands out against all the other brightly light colorful stores. After everything, he'd think places like this would be more taboo. But there's a decent amount of people in the store. And honestly, Xion knows him well. He won't admit that this is exactly what he wants.

 

“Perfect right. Come one. There's a sale I think. I know you don't spend your money on anything, but you can get more this way.” She grabs his hand and tugs him forward. He's still surprised he's getting any money at all.

 

Honestly, when he thinks about the way they looked at him handing him money. Like he deserved it. To survive. To make up for the way he's existed. It makes him sick. He'd tried to kill them ten times over. He could still. He could turn on them at any moment. Don't they understand that? So why-

 

“Look~!” Xion holds up a black shirt with a red bunny on the bottom corner. Vanitas yanks it from her hands and looks away, embarrassed. No one needed to know about his fondness of rabbits. But he did like the shirt. He likes a lot of shirts on this table actually.

 

Luckily, he has a vague idea of what size he is, so he grabs a bunch of different shirts. Some that Xion tosses at him and some that he finds on different racks. They're all black with little designs.

 

There's one that has a crisis cross of lines and hearts that reminds him of his suit. It makes his heart twist in a way that he can't even describe. Good or bad? Who knows. But he adds the shirt to the stack.

 

“Are you really getting that?” Xion shoots him a look when he picks up a shirt that says Professional Asshole on it. “Can't you try to be a little nicer?”

 

“Yes. And then No. In that order.” Vanitas says simply, with a smirk. Before deciding that maybe he has enough shirts. He can always come another time.

 

Pants are simple enough. He snags a bunch of black skinny jeans and some pants that have far more pockets than any human is supposed to have. What was the purpose of having so many? What would someone fill them with? He would find use for them, but still.

 

Xion has wandered off to a section of clothes that are somehow this place's aesthetic while also having cute girly mascots all over them. There's a bunch of jewelry and other accessories over there too. He should buy something for her probably. She put up with him all the way here after all. It's the least he can do.

 

Should he get accessories too? He just didn't want to wear other's clothes. As much as he wants his own style, does he deserve to get something so frivolous that it serves no purpose? Is it even worth it?

 

He's still going to look like Sora no matter what he does. Wearing someone's face while being everything they aren't. Making them look bad simply for existing. That's what he was doing. He was tainted that kids everything. He was tainting-

 

Oh. Vanitas paused staring at the face masks in front of him. Oh. These were perfect. He wasn't allowed to wear his helmet? Fine. There were a few that had pointy teeth in a smile. Some that were just plain black. He through them into the bad.

 

“Oh, Face masks? I guess those are your style.” She frowns, which he knows has an undercurrent of worry. Worry because he's just trying to hide himself again. But he hates being so exposed.

 

Vanitas nods as he refuses to look over at her. He's spent more time still with his face covered than with it not. Forgive him for needed that shield. The flood might be less of a issue, but his emotions still scare him. Its too easy for him to be set off. This wasn't much, but it was a layer of protection.

 

“I found this beanie I thought you'd like!” She holds up a black beanie that's got some kind of silver design on it. It's simple, and it reminds him slightly of his helmet. Barely. But he gets the sentiment. There's a red heart on the side.

 

“...Thanks.” He takes it and shoves it into the basket. He loves it honestly.

 

With this and his face mask, he'll look one touch less like Sora. Which is partially for himself but also for the others. Maybe for Sora too. He knows it must be weird to look at him. A monster wearing his face. It wasn't like he took it. He didn't decide on that.

 

He catches his reflection in the glass, and he frowns as the yellow stands out from everything else. His eyes still aren't covered. They're the most expressive part, but he knows he can't get away with covering them. They should let him. Yellow eyes are sign of the darkness. They remind everyone that he's a monster. That he's made from the darkness. No matter what they do. That will still be true.

 

His eyes remind him of Xehanort. He knows the real reason he has them, but every time he looks in the mirror, all he can see is that bastard staring back at him. Everything he was meant to be and managed to fail being. He's still a creature of darkness, but he's....a failed one.

 

He's-

 

There's a hand on his shoulder again. Xion is trying to mask her concerned look.

 

“Look!” She holds up a pair of boots. Boots that look almost exactly like the bottom part of his suit. Zippers on the side so he doesn't have to tie his shoes. Which he...hasn't been. He doesn't know how to tie his shoes. He isn't going to ever ask for help either. No one will ever let him down. He's just been tucking his shoe laces into his shoes.

“Those are perfect...” In his shoe size too.

 

How did Xion even know his shoe size....he didn't want to know honestly.

 

He shoved them in his basket, which was honestly a little heavy even for him at this point.

 

“We should head out. I think I finally have enough clothes.” Vanitas nodded over to check out, and took the things that Xion was holding and tossed them in.

 

“Wh-” Xion tried to take them back with a frown.

 

“I'm buying them for you. I'm not taking no for an answer.” He gives her a sharp look. It's the least he can do.

 

This is what they wanted him to do anyway right. Be nice? Be a...friend.

 

“...Thanks, Vani.” Xion gives him a wide smile, and Vanitas grunts before turning away.

 

“Ugh, Don't call me that...” There's no bite in his voice though.

 

He couldn't ever.

 

...This is more than he thinks he should have. But he does have it.

 

And maybe, he can keep going from here.

 

Let his heart be his guiding key, hm?

 

Ventus had told him that his friends were his power. He had thought he was a stupid, naive fool.

 

But being here, like this, and thinking about the few non-antagonistic moments he'd had with people...

 

Maybe he could have friends too.

 

Maybe.

 


End file.
